Party Hardy
by PeechTao -Ezra Cross
Summary: Britt Reid attends an LA fundraising event with Kato and Casey. Who is the girl Kato decides to bring with him? And what dark secrets are the rich guests hiding? And what will the Green Hornet be doing about it? review sucks, but the story doesnt!
1. Part 1

ok, so this story is a little bit more about character and storyline development than action so sorry to dissapoint! still awesomely funny, so enjoy! will be a 2-parter since it is a little longer and i don't want the screen to be too muddled.

**Party Hardy**

**Book 4**

**PeechTao**

The entire length of her body was nothing but silk. I reached forward, cupping her hip against mine as I drew her close. Her breath tickled the back of my neck as I leaned in against her ear.

Her hair was cascading down her back, released from its prim updo from the long hard day. Her heels had been kicked off in a corner, under the table. She rested easily against me. We breathed as one, twirling in slow, concentric circles, across the ballroom floor.

It was late. Too late for most of the couples that had already gone home after the initial dance-floor soiree . A lone few remained in the corner. Case and I took over the middle of the floor. The string band played on some quiet classical tune I actually recognized (due to Kato) as one of Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

Lenore was passive. Submissive. Her head inclining up to mine. Her lips parted as my eyes slid shut and we moved slowly together.

(:):)

"You're thinking about me naked aren't you?" Lenore growled.

I suddenly snapped out of my induced reality and looked back at Case. She was parading another outfit in front of me in hopes of my approval. I, of course, have loved her in absolutely everything so far. I told her so, and she has yet to actually believe me.

"No." I replied truthfully. "You were back in that silver number and we were dancing to Vivaldi."

She raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh. Sure."

I sat back on the plush couch that the department store provided for men like me stuck watching their ladies try on dress after dress and never be satisfied. Right now, that man was me. And I was watching my secretary Lenore Case do just that. Five evening gowns in and I realized her butt was too fat, her stomach too pronounced, her boobs were in her navel, and her thighs were too thick. Did I mention her man-back? Yeah, she had a "man-back" according to her studios knowledge on the topic. Me, a man usually attracted to every size two bimbo in a ten mile radius, thought she looked smokin' hot. Convincing her of that was not the easiest thing in the world.

The only reason I was even in this position was completely her fault. Somehow during the course of the week before I agreed to go to some fundraising dinner. A dinner that was apparently tonight. It was black tie, more formal then the presidential inauguration or the crowning of the King of England. This was fine for me, who had more suits then he knew what to do with. Kato too had a great tailor-tricked out Armani he invested in a few months back for a friend's wedding. The next trouble came in the way of dates. None of my typical female counterparts were optional. Either they would get too drunk to look good, or I would be so distracted looking at them I would not pay attention to anything involving the actual fundraising itself. So, Lenore was a compatible choice, for some reason she wanted to go anyway. Kato told me he already had a person in mind. This was moderately concerning. I had never seen him with a woman beside Case before, ever. But he assured me this girl was perfect. So I trusted him.

I couldn't wait to see the chick.

Case agreed to go instantly. Then she realized that "formal" didn't exist in her present wardrobe. My credit card was then up for grabs as I promised to buy her happiness.

Right now that happiness had collapsed into the sofa as she began to shake with sobs.

I looked around desperately for anyone who can assist me with this sudden breakdown. I had no way of really handling the situation. So, I did what I usually did. I decided to be comical about it.

As Casey sat on the sofa and cried her eyes out, I was in the changing room for a grand total of three minutes. Being The Hornet had gotten me plenty of experience in quick changes. When I came out I found her sitting still, half zipped into a Vera Wang beauty with eyes like a raccoon's. She looked up at me through her snotty nose and a handful of tissues.

Then she sputtered, laughed, and half choked.

I was in the same silver number she had tried on first and wearing it good.

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering a laugh she didn't want to admit to.

"How do I look?" I asked sincerely, twirling in the reflection of the half a million store mirrors. My every angle looked pristine, from the hairy back to the various gunshot scars and body shots I'd taken and survived in my moonlighting career. I swished my hips, twirled that skirt, and curtsied like a lady.

That broke her down. Casey was in hysterics.

I smiled, inviting her back into the dressing room to try something else on, something that she would like, and would wear out. She took it as me inviting her into the dressing room WITH me and threw a shoe at my head before stomping back to change. My shoulder's sagged a little. But I had finely gotten through to her.

(:):)

The night was young. The moods alight. All the rich and famous hugged their tables and their bottles of wine and ignored the company of the resident money collector. I forget what the fundraiser was for. It was something ridiculous, like a new satellite for NASA, or a shooting location for some big wigs latest movie venture. Obviously it was of the grandest interest because I knew exactly why I was there.

Not.

All I knew is I had made an appearance for the _Daily Sentinel_ and that was all that was required of me. Case was aglow in her shimmering new gown. I don't remember what designer she eventually ended up with, but it was red, silky, and flared in about ten layers of crimped and tousled beauty from its low waist to the floor. The train was long enough it could perhaps stretch from here to Chicago. She enjoyed the play of gathering her skirts up in her right arm as she walked around to meet everyone. It made her feel royal, and in the end that made me just as happy as I needed to be.

Kato took a seat across from me. He was one of perhaps five people in attendance without a direct wealth of a couple billion dollars. But he fit in perfectly enough with all the foreign film crews that had joined in the event. He talked about cars, gadgets, technology. All of his passions and his pursuits while enjoying a comfortable life as my chief executive associate. The girl he brought with him, now that was a downright knock out.

Honestly, I was going to slug him for bringing her.

She was a kid. Maybe nineteen at the most and certainly stuck out like a sore thumb on a hand model. She was smartly dressed in a soft black number with a little lace here and a little leg there, probably a buy one get one sale at K-Mart. Overall the dress code screamed modest. Her body read "I'm shy, stay back" which is precisely what everyone did. Her name was Glenda (the good witch) Owens, and the daughter of one of the editors in my staff. She was deathly reclusive and had obviously not been out in society for, maybe, five years. Tops. Kato did his best to bring her around the room with him, acting the gentlemanly part. I realized almost at once this wasn't some girl he was trying to score with. He was just helping her out. Making her feel special.

I smiled about that. But it seemed like all his efforts were falling for nothing. She was just too darn shy to say a word to anyone and more often than not found herself striving to put something intelligent into a conversation or become part of one at all. After an hour of following Kato like a lost puppy and having every bimbo in the place treat her like a street urchin, she took her seat back at our table and stayed there speaking to no one.

Casey and I had a relatively fine evening. The party entrance was similar to most red carpet event in LA. The whole world of paparazzi was out snapping photos and catching the best angle of all the rich folks. The party itself involved a lot of posters of whatever was being supported. A short cocktail hour held the jist of men getting up and bucking for financial backing. Then the guests were left to do as they normally would and mill about. Somewhere around the two hour mark the check books would come out. At midnight the sophisticated function would change drastically into LA's most wealthy and exclusive night club. A DJ would appear out of the woodwork and all these fancy pants would get down and jiggy on the floor like grannies at an Italian wedding.

I knew what to expect throughout the night. I expected to be at Case's arm, escorting her around the room and introducing her to all the wealthy acquaintances I'd probably rather forget. But, as it turned out, my personal secretary was pretty well versed in all my acquaintances whether I actually knew them or not. For after about thirty minutes of milling about the room and coming up empty handed on any gripping conversation topic I found myself back at our table too.

Glenda was there still, running her finger around the rim of a glass of water. She looked sad and bored all at once. Like a doll placed in a den of plastic wolves in size zero dresses.

Our place cards had her sitting just across and to the right of me at out circular table. A rather annoyingly tall vase of flowers was making even the politest of conversation starters unlikely. So I looked around for Kato.

He was in a ring of men, including about four auto enthusiasts, maybe Jay Leno, and six other movie stars I'd only ever seen in television previews. He was effectively trapped. Case was a few clicks of people down from him. She was standing at the bar with a man that looked like George Clooney. She smiled a lot at him.

I got up from my seat, walked around the table, and plopped down right next to Glenda.

She looked up at me with more than a little shock.

"So," I asked, attempting any conversation I could be a key participant in, "how'd you and Kato meet?"

A small flutter of a smile went across her face and disappeared just as quick. She wasn't looking at me, but someplace distant into the crowed. "Oh, uh, it was my dad. He and Kato were talking and, I, well . . ." she stopped stammering and looked into her lap. Her face was flushed.

I patted her shoulder. I was just the consoling kind of guy today."Hey, look, I'm not trying to get a perfect answer out of you. Just relax. You want a drink?"

At that she smiled a little and looked at me as her head shook out a no.

"I'm not trying to liquor you up if that's what you're thinking. At a place like this you got to know how to loosen up a little. You sure you don't want something?"

"No," she said, a little more confident now. "Thanks. I'm not a drinker."

And then it hit me. I lowered my head into my hands in embarrassment. "Oh my God. I'm sorry. I keep forgetting you're not twenty one. How's that for a front page story? Editor-in-chief gets a poor kid drunk her first night out." I laughed a little at myself. So did she.

"Actually," she said, taking up the opportunity. "I'm twenty-three. So it wouldn't be so terrible. At least I'm legal. I just don't drink."

"You're twenty-three?" I didn't have to fake the surprise. "Honest? Crap you look like a kid! What are you taking and where can I get some of it?"

She laughed again. I liked the sound of it. "Call it healthy large livin'." She said. One childish hand motioned over her not-size-two figure. I would have guessed it was an eleven, thirteen at the most. Definitely not the cookie-cutter model bod that had swelled the room with their emaciated bodies. "All human all the time. I don't think I've ever even been exposed to tapeworms."

The words were so unexpected and removed from the snooty crap that had been shoveled over my head all evening I couldn't help myself. I cracked up.

"Are you kiddin' me?" I asked, still chuckling to myself.

Her head shook, livened a little. "Well if you're asking if I've been tested, that I can't assure you. But I think I might know."

I pressed my lips into a smile. I reached across the table and grabbed my bottle of Heineken and started to sip at it. The two of us were quiet for a moment, looking across the crowed or people.

"She's pretty." The girl said.

I looked at where her eyes trailed off to. She was looking at Casey.

I nodded. "Yeah. She cleans up nice. But you should have see her the night I—" I stopped myself halfway. I was about to tell the kid of the night Kato and I busted down Casey's door after I'd gotten shot by the cops. The night I was The Green Hornet. Now that certainly was not dinner table talk with strangers material. I grinned a little. "Yeah. She does look great. You too. I mean look at you. I can see why Kato brought you out. I mean, God, you're cute in that little dress."

"Oh, thanks." Glenda's eyes went downward, as if trying to remember what she was wearing.

I reached in a little and held a small gold locket that graced her neckline. It was simple and delicate. The dull color gave it a vaguely old and worn feel. "This is nice too."

"My mother's." she said, allowing me to pop the clasp and look inside. "She died about ten years ago. It was hers. And this too." She worked a small wedding ring off her finger and handed it over.

It was simple. Like everything else about her. A single small stone on a band of gold. I handed it back to her and she slipped it back into place. The picture was pretty in the locket. It was framed nicely and fit well in the oval. I snapped it shut and pulled away.

"It's the only things I really have of her." She continued.

I nodded. "I understand. My mom, well, she died when I was young. I never got to know her very well. It's important to keep her close, you know. It's nice."

She couldn't suppress the complete wave of red that overcame her countenance. Girls just got cuter when they got compliments. That's why I liked giving them out. The table went quiet again after her small thank you. But, it was a pleasant sort of reprieve. The kid was sweet. Hardly in league with the playboy throw backs around us, and that really didn't matter either. I found myself suddenly starting to laugh.

Glenda looked over with a momentary curiosity around her eyes.

"I think that's the first time a chick ever used the word tapeworm at a fancy dinner party." I said.

"It's a big concern though," she went on with an air of feigned severity. She pointed to her untouched plate of hors d'oeurvres. "Fish eggs? Half gnarled bird's nest soup and—" she held up one small bowl filled with a type of cheese with one big difference, it was riddled with maggots "—whatever this is, worms should be at the top of the concern list. Chop everything small enough and we might as well be eating chicken feet."

This ignited a thought. I leaned forward conspiratorially; my Heineken hovered over the floor between us. "You know, and don't tell Kato 'cause he'll make fun of me, I watched this episode of Millionaire Matchmaker once and this wacky guy was eating . . ."

"—Chicken fetuses." She finished the sentence.

"Like, who does that? I was barfing in my shoes practically!"

"And that wacky look he gave?"

"The leer!"

"Totally serial killer."

The two of us laughed as one. She reached for her water. I took a swig of my Heineken. So we watched the people going back and forth around the grand room. I knew at some point Kato and I would have to disappear for our quick change and rush back in to rob the crowed. Sometimes it was inconvenient to be labeled a bad guy. I had to occasionally do bad things to reinforce the notion. And the name of the game tonight was robbing the rich and famous of LA. After all, it was a red-carpet fundraiser so everyone was dressed to the best and wearing their cash as much as they had it in their pocket books.

The evening would more than prove to be profitable, both for my reputation, and for Kato's future endeavors with the Black Beauty customization. After all, I couldn't keep siphoning my funds forever without someone looking into it.

Maybe I'd take a little extra from George Clooney wannabe in the corner trying to get my secretary drunk and loose. But I had to admit loving my little side conversation. How rare to talk to a normal human at this kind of suck-up fest. Even though I was waiting for Kato's signal to move, I tried to envelope myself as much as possible with Glenda Owens. Besides, the more we spoke, the more I was liking it.

"Mr. Reid? Britt Reid with the _Sentinel_?"

I turned around to see who was calling me to find some short (ok, he was a dwarf) guy in a red tux and top hat standing next to some other loser in a denim suit straight down to the shoes.

Holy Hannah, I wanted to laugh my butt off.

Glenda gave them both a long glance up and down before looking back at her glass and suppressing every emotion I was now restraining. If either of us cracked, that would be the end of it.

"Britt Reid, that's me." I replied, trying to remain level headed or at least official.

"We were told you knew a little bit about working the press."

I heard Glenda snort into her water and I swear I almost lost it.

"Yeah. I know a little about that." I not-quite-lied.

"Your associate led us to believe you had a considerable knowledge in the area." The shorter one said.

I then got the distinct feeling they were "together"and I almost dropped my beer. "Uh, sure. Though I'm not sure how I can help you—" my voice trailed, I looked at the two characters curiously.

"May we talk," and he came in, real close, "In private?"

I glanced at Glenda. She held up a your-on-your-own-but-tell-me-about-it-later wave. So I followed the two men out into the antechamber, then to an adjoining hall. When it appeared as if we were alone, Denim turned about as if to begin some great and terrible revelation that only I could mask from the masses with my pull in journalism. To my great happiness, Kato appeared just then dressed in his costume and domino mask. He gassed me with the Hornet gun, Denim catching enough to hit the floor also. Red midget took a sideswipe to the head before he too was gassed.

About thirty seconds later I got up and looked around.

"Looks like it worked." Kato said. He surveyed the scene. "Nose plugs not so bad."

I carefully extracted the articles from my nostrils with similar flare to removing one really long snot wad. I rubbed my nose a few times. "Yeah, but it feels really weird too. I guess it's a good thing or else you'd be robbing everyone alone right about now."

Kato passed me my costume and I took the moment to quickly change.

"You said send you a good reason to leave. Was it good enough?" Kato asked.

I gave him a pained look. "When I said a good reason, I meant a hot looking blond. Not two circus clowns looking for good PR."

Kato shrugged. I could tell he loved every second of it.

He passed me my gun, I checked The Hornet Sting and together we rushed into the ballroom again. This time, in much different looking dinner attire.

* * *

thanks for reading! please review and move on to part 2!


	2. Part 2

**Party Hardy **

**Part 2**

**PeechTao**

The room erupted instantly. Women screamed in terror and rushed from the doorway. Men screamed in terror, and rushed behind the women. The music came to a jarring halt with a characteristic squeal from the disk being used. All attention was on Kato and myself.

I looked around the room, gauging the locations of particular victims I had already pegged from a good shakedown. Men and women I knew first hand deserved it. Like Llyod Reason in the far left corner who just demolished one of the only veteran medical centers in a forty mile radius for his newest multi-million dollar beach house. Or Lisa Halloway hiding dead center, who was the main upper-crust cocaine provider on the west coast. Men and women just like this, the scum of upper society all jam packed under one roof just ripe for the picking.

And then there was Lenore Case. She sat, a little away from the bar now, holding her glass and eyeing me with cold determination. I hadn't exactly shared this part of the evening with her. And she was not going to be very appreciative of it. Clooney stood beside her like a kicked dog. I had a feeling he was not about to be very chivalrous.

I jerked my head left and Kato went that way instantly. He took hold of a table cloth and swiped it from its resting place. He balled it up and brought it closer. I addressed the crowd.

"Well, what have we got here? A considerable party wouldn't you say? Don't mean to interrupt the festivities, but sometimes duty calls. Now, when I come down the line, you better start shaking out your best. I find someone holding back, I might not like it so much."

Like a collective shuttering breath, the people made way as I swept over the room. To his credit one man did attempt a fierce recourse. He pushed through the people around him and rushed for us. His sloppy fist went first at Kato, who dodged like a slow-motion action hero. Then he countered after me. I sidestepped him. That caused the man to pitch forward off balance. I gave him an extra shove in the back and he hit the floor head first. I pulled back a foot and leveled a good kick to his hind end, then extracted my gun.

The room gasped.

I shot him in the back of the head, green gas rising up and enveloping his entire head and shoulders until I was sure he wouldn't be getting up again. A woman screamed. Two others tried to rush me at once. Kato dropped one with a strong arm to his upper body that threw him back maybe three feet. I shot the second and he dropped instantly.

I kept my pistol raised, daring another hero forward.

No one challenged me.

As one Kato and I swept the room left to right. One by one the LA socialites dropped their precious belongings into the open tablecloth. As I came in close to Henry Balak (an upper crust canned hunting expert famous in certain circles for abducting rare animals then blowing their brains out at his celebrity home) attempted to pull a knife from somewhere in his suit jacket. He stabbed between two women with it, striking for my throat but Kato had been watching him intently all along he leaped into the air, kicking Balak's hand high up before he turned in mid air and fired a crushing blow to Balak's sternum. For his credit, the man went down swinging. I had no problem gassing him there, along with his two floozies attempting to defend him. The Hornet had no problem going after women when the need arose.

On along the line I went. Everyone was a smidgen more cooperative after Henry went down and out.

When I got to George Clooney I had to do my level best to hold back a triumphant grin. I don't really even know who the guys was but at the same time it didn't matter. He was a man, like a lot of men in this room. He had money and he was trying to spend it on an easy woman he thought he could bang and forget by the next morning. I swear he was old enough to be her father, which just made it all the worse. I tried to keep my eyes off of Case beside him. She looked like she wanted to slap me good and hard. I'm sure on the drive home she would do just that. Perhaps, though, she would end up seeing this sleaze ball for who he really was and thank me. At least that was my option A.

The trouble was, she always seemed to go with option B.

I took extra care of removing every visible (and a few buried) pieces of jewelry from Lisa Halloway. I knew some of her tactics already. And honestly, tossing a few million dollar earrings into her bra wasn't that creative.

I tried to do the best I could to seem unaffected when at last we reached the end of the line, where kind little Glenda was standing in her K-Mart party dress with nothing to offer The Green Hornet but her gold locket and mother's wedding ring.

I had taken something from everyone thus far. Even Casey. It would look preferential if I passed her by.

She wasn't shaking, wasn't pale as death, or flushed red in shock. Her eyes weren't cast down. She looked dead at me. Straight in my eyes. Her hands were clenched in fists and suddenly I read something so completely opposite in the girl.

She was going to beat the Hell out of me if I touched her.

I raised my eyebrow beneath the cover of my green mask. This might just be interesting. I didn't want to gas her if I could help it.

My gloved hand reached forward and caught hold of the gold chain, the one with her mother's picture nestled protectively inside. Her body went rigid with my touch. Any minute and she would go for it.

"Don't take it." She whispered. It was not a plead. It was a command.

I flipped a little smug smile. I drew in close, sharp. She never flinched.

"Or what?" I growled.

I only felt the affect of the attack. I never saw it coming. It was as if suddenly I was vertical, then I was horizontal. The kid had kneed me in the nuts! If my heavy coat hadn't absorbed the majority of the blow, I would have been in real trouble at appearing totally unmanly. So, I sucked it up, straightened out, and pulled the chain from her neck. I left the ring.

"I think I actually just broke something down there." I whispered to Kato as we turned and headed for the door.

(:):)

I sat behind my desk in my big office on the 28th floor of the _Daily Sentinel_. Casey was standing at my back, shuffling things around my desk in their particular order of importance. I never knew how she determined said order, but it was possible it depended on who she was not happy with during the day. If the editing desk ticked her off, well they were going instantly to the bottom of the pile. If it was the DA, then he wasn't getting a call back for oh, say, thirty days at the very least. Today, she was mad at me. So I got everything and then some. Forty calls needed to be made and they needed to be made now, I had a stack of thirty eight copies of sixteen different papers to proofread for the day's latest adds, and to make it all the better for her it was only nine am. She still had the whole rest of the day to attack me.

After destroying my desk she clicked toward the office door on her hot little red heels. Her head flipped around, tossing her hair sideways.

"Will that be all Mr. Reid?" her venom voice demanded.

If I knew what was good for me, I'd say no. Instead, I tried to make amends. "Really, Case, I had no idea that guy was your dad."

Her eyes narrowed. She stalked over, holding my cup of coffee with trepidation over my head.

I never moved. I deserved whatever was coming to me. It was my fault I never paid attention to the actual fundraising itself. How was I to know that her father was raising money for creating a new veteran hospital in downtown LA? And the Green Hornet appearing all of a sudden and robbing the crowed blind was enough to throw a wrench into the entire hospital project.

Well, at least The Hornet's reputation remained intact, even though Britt Reid made an awfully big personal donation to compensate for the loss of revenue. I also made a vow to double efforts to find the green menace.

After holding the cup over my head for a minute or two, after dropping all the paper work on my desk, and after slapping me a few times in the Cadillac after the party, she decided at last to drop the entire cup on top of my head and walk out the door.

The mug hit the top of my head and skittered down the floor spilling coffee the entire way down.

For now I ignored it. I reached to my phone and picked it up. I dialed for my home and after a few rings Kato answered.

"Hey, can you do me a huge favor and drive me a new set of clothes?" I asked. I shook black coffee off of my hand after it decided to try and drip down my back, arms, and onto my paperwork.

I heard a heavy sigh on the other line. "Uh, well, I would. But I got call from Casey and she say I am not allowed to bring you anything today. I think she had this pla—"

"Thanks, Kato." I slammed the receiver down and sat there, in my chair, covered in black coffee. Sometimes being the Hornet was not nearly as fun as I intended to be. But I had done some good the night before.

Just that moment in thought brought a tender smile to my face. Glenda, now that girl was a surprise. After "coming too" from the Hornet gas I reentered the ballroom where all the wealthy bigwigs were buzzing with outrage and contempt. Many were heading out the door. Kato was back with his group of auto enthusiasts not a minute after The Hornet had stepped out. Hopefully no one noticed the brief hiatus.

I looked around for Casey. She wanted nothing to do with me, but played the part of concerned employee for those around. Then I sought out Glenda. She was sitting back at our table, her head in her hands, as she sobbed.

I felt a pang of regret. I knew her locket was burning a hole in my pocket. I wanted to find an opportunity to give it back to her. But how to do it without seeming suspicious?

Her head rose slightly as I approached. The lower lip began to quiver. "Oh, Mr. Reid, I—"

I didn't let her finish. I put my arms around her shoulders and pulled her up until we were standing together.

"I woke up and my watch was missing." I said to her, trying to laugh a little. "And I think his Chauffer probably raped me."

I heard the faintest flutter in her chest. A giggle seeking release.

"I swear I woke up and I was locked in this room with a midget and some giant in a denim jumpsuit. It was just, I don't know. I'll read about it in the _Nightly Balker_ tomorrow."

Now she allowed the laugh to escape. Her hand rose and swiped a few tears out of her eyes. By the time she had her head up I had angled us one rocking step at a time towards the middle of the ballroom floor. Soft music was beginning to play in the background to calm the angry masses. This mattered little to nothing for Glenda and me as we danced across the floor in a world all our own.

Me and her tapeworms.

I sighed a little at my desk. I held the locket in my handle, letting it dangle in the air before me. it had taken the most of the night to figure out how to give the girl back her most prized possession. It finely came to me with the morning edition, following the bold headline:

GREEN HORNET ROBS THE RICH

AND STEALS FROM THE POOR

a double banner and all that more special.

My intercom buzzed and Casey's voice came over it, still with that clipped tone I was going to have to get used to for the next three weeks. Tops. "You have a visitor, Mr. Reid. You called for Ms. Glenda Owens?"

"Yes, Case, send her—" and Casey cut me off and hung up. "In." I finished to no one in particular.

The door opened inward and Miss Owens strode into the room. She was smartly dressed. Her jeans were dark and delicately fitted to her curves. She wore a simple black top and a buttoned half blouse crossed just under her bust. Her rather nicely sized bust. I even enjoyed the faintly wind tossed frizz escaping her ponytail.

"Mr. Reid—"

"Britt." I corrected with a smile.

"Britt." She replied. "My dad said you wanted to see me?"

I motioned to one of the chairs in front of me. I then grabbed an envelope hidden in the clutter on my desk and handed it over to her. "This was sent to my office this morning, it was addressed to me, but after I opened it up I think you should have the chance to see it before it gets printed in the evening edition online."

She gave me an awkward look. I leaned on the desk as she extracted the letter hidden within the plane manila envelope.

_**Reid:**_

_I'll have you know you're watch is about five minutes off from normal. And I cannot stress enough how I do not appreciate the personal campaign you have taken against my operation. What do you plan to prove? To take me down? Good luck._

_I was disappointed that I did not get any better revenge on you then stealing a fifteen dollar watch. In that case, I hope you enjoy the surprise I have waiting for you when you go looking for your car tonight._

_**The Green Hornet**_

_Ps. One of your guest's was particularly irksome and caused me a considerable amount of annoyance later. However, as a man that enjoys a good roughhouse, I have to admire her spunk. Enclosed is something of hers. If it's not returned, you might just find something missing at 120 Alden Park Lane too._

Glenda's eyes shot up to me. I held the locket in my hand. She leaped out of her chair and grasped it instantly.

"My locket!" she screamed with glee. Her arms latched around my neck briefly before releasing to be sure it was all true. "Oh, Britt! I can't believe it!"

"You can't believe it? I want to know what the crap you did to him! My car's sitting in the parking lot with a semi truck parked on its hood and you get a necklace back."

She jutted forward. "Oh-my-God! What?"

I shot a finger towards the window. "Go on, take a look."

She danced around my desk and the two of us took in the sight of Kato's and Casey's handy work. Literally a semi truck had been driven over my Cadillac. It was completely destroyed.

"So," she asked. "You going to print that letter?"

I nodded. "Yup."

"What's at 120 Alden Park Lane?"

"My house. At least for now it is."

"Hey Britt?"

I nodded. "Yeah?"

"Why are you covered in coffee?"

I grinned, shrugged. My eyes scanned the desk and the car, and I thought about Casey's anger boiling about a door away. "Hey, Glenda-the-good-witch?"

She was clasping the locket around her neck as her eyes flicked over to me.

"How does lunch sound?"

"But it's not even ten yet."

I put my arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the door, out the door, and off the pressroom floor as I answered all the way. "I think it's close enough. Hopefully you've got a car. Let's talk more about tapeworms. Did you see Millionaire Matchmaker last night? Bye Case! I'm taking the day off!"

* * *

and thats the end! thanks for reading! please review!

i set up a lot of possible future characters in this book to be used in later anthology entries, so keep an eye out for those in the future


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